Date: Thu, 29 Mar 2001 22:29:48 -0500
From: D LS
Subject: Brian & Me Part 125
Okie, here it is. a *little* late, but not too shabby for the way things
have been going lately. :)
I'm not going to take up a bunch of your time with a header, because I have
a feeling a lot of you are going to skip it anyway. :) To get the basics
out of the way: This is fiction, not meant to imply anything about anyone.
If you shouldn't read this, don't read it.
I want to extend a huge thank you to everyone who has helped me write this.
Y'all know who you are. :)
Huge thanks as well to everyone who has taken a few minutes to email me and
let me think of the story, either to complain about something or just to
tell me that you've enjoyed it. Every email is greatly appreciated, and
I've gotten some really great friends out of the deal, too. So, thank you
:)
Finally, thanks to Matt, for everything. SHMILY :)
Enjoy :)
PART 125
"Hey, sweetie," Brian said brightly as he closed the door behind him. I
hadn't gotten much sleep at all and what I had gotten had been very light
and not refreshing at all, a result of the alcohol in my system rather than
any sort of calm I'd managed. When Brian came back in, I was still lying on
my side and staring at the wall. The only change I'd made since he'd left
me was to pull a pillow under my head. "Feel better?"
I yawned as he came and stood at the edge of the bed. "A little, I guess."
The queasiness was gone and I wasn't as flushed as I had been, but I
couldn't honestly say I felt much better. The alcohol had left me but the
nervousness remained and it seemed to be in no hurry to leave. I was no
closer to figuring out what I was going to do about Andrew and Jackie's
threat, and at least pretending to be ill would give me an excuse to keep
some distance between Brian and I until I had things clearer in my head.
"Do you want something more to eat? You didn't finish your noodles."
I swung slowly around so I was sitting with my feet on the floor and
stretched. "I don't think so." What little appetite I'd had before I'd lay
down was entirely gone now. My stomach felt like it was so tightly clenched
you couldn't force food into it.
He gave me a careful look then took my hand and pulled me to my feet. His
arms settled lightly around my waist as he gave me a quick kiss. "Can I
squeeze you now?"
"Not unless you absolutely have to. What time is it?" I asked, ignoring
the frown he gave me and stretching within the confines of his arms in the
hope that he'd let me go. "It feels late."
"It is. We have to start getting ready to go."
"How long did you let me lay there?" I tried to pull away from him, but he
kept hold of me. "I have to get ready."
"A couple of hours," he answered, pulling me back to him, "which means that
since you've already showered and your hair looks fine, you're set. Unless
you've decided to start wearing make-up, all you need to do is throw on some
clothes and you've got lots of time for that."
"Then let me do it." I stepped back a little and looked down at him. He
had added an old grey t-shirt to the jeans but that was it. Of course, he
didn't need to put any effort into getting dressed. He'd be changing as
soon as we got there. "Then I'll have time to at least say hi to the guys
before we go."
Brian sighed and let me go after kissing me quickly. "Alright, but I don't
like it."
I stepped away from him and walked to the dresser rather than speak. Being
close with Brian didn't feel right at the moment and just having his arms
around me had been jacking up my tension level. Opening the top drawer, I
pulled out some underwear and two pairs of socks, tossing him a pair.
He sat down on the bed and started putting on his socks while he laughed.
"There's no winning with you."
"Stop trying, then," I told him, forcing a smile on my face as I walked to
the closet. I was hoping that the smile would become easier the more alert
I became and the less time I was alone with Brian. I had already spent the
last couple of hours trying to think my way out of the situation and nothing
had come of it. Now I didn't have the time to think about what Jackie and
Andrew had laid on me, so I was trying my best to at least push it aside in
my mind and hoping it would stay there for a while. It wasn't a permanent
solution by any means, but it was going to have to be good enough while it
was just Brian and I in the room. I hoped that having the others around
would provide a distraction for the both of us.
I pulled some black pants off a hanger, slipped them on and added a t-shirt
that was a little bit darker than the one Brian was wearing. I'd no sooner
done up my zipper than he was standing behind me, trying to get his hands in
my pockets. "There, you're dressed. Happy?"
"Ecstatic," I confirmed unenthusiastically, stepping back against him
because I knew it was what he was expecting me to do and I couldn't think of
a way to avoid it. I barely suppressed a sigh of relief when someone
knocked on the door and gave me my out. "I'll get it." He kissed the base
of my neck slowly and let me go so I could get to the door.
Nick's smiling face greeted me, and I found myself smiling back more
naturally than I had for Brian. A new wave of frustration washed over me
with the realisation, but I pushed it away. "Hey, Nicky."
"Hey, yourself. You okay?" he asked, coming in as I stepped back.
"Kevin send you?" I closed the door and started searching for my shoes
without answering his question. I knew he'd take my getting ready as an
affirmative answer, which saved me from lying. I'd kicked my shoes off when
I'd come back into the room after my 'walk', and looking for them gave me a
good reason not to have to look at either of them for a moment.
"Sort of. You're on the way to the elevator for the rest of us, so he's
going to bang on the door when we have to go."
"Then you're here just to bother us?" Brian asked with a grin as he sat
down on the bed. I found one of my shoes under the corner of the bed and
the other behind the chair by the window. It was the same chair that I'd
thrown my shirt and pants onto earlier. That ball of clothes was now
sitting in my suitcase, which was shoved under the bed. I'd done that as
soon as Brian had gone for dinner with the guys. I chose to sit in the
chair rather than join Brian on the bed.
"Something like that," Nick confirmed, "and I wanted to make sure Nate was
feeling okay. I didn't want to have to listen to you whining about his
being sick all the way to the concert."
"Well, you didn't see him!"
"I wasn't that bad," I protested, leaning over to tie my shoes and taking
my time with the task. It meant I didn't have to look either of them in the
eye.
"He had you at death's door," Nick laughed, dropping onto the bed and
laying down.
Brian looked up at me and rolled his eyes. "I did not. All I said was
that I was worried about you because I didn't know what was wrong. You were
fine earlier, and you ate the same thing I did for lunch and I felt fine."
"You worry too much."
He bared his teeth at me before turning it into a smile. "I worry just the
right amount, thank you very much."
"You worry just the right amount," Nick agreed, kicking him. "But you talk
too much."
"Like you weren't worried." Brian turned on the bed and looked over to me.
"He was going to come check on you before lunch even came."
"He'd have gotten an eyeful," I said quietly, pulling my legs up onto the
chair so my knees were almost against my chest.
"Nothing I haven't seen before."
"You better not have been checking him out at the time," Brian told him,
becoming serious for a moment. "You had better things to be thinking
about."
"Well, I had to sneak a peek."
"Hey!" Brian protested, slapping Nick's foot.
"Like you wouldn't have been looking." Nick kicked him again. "If he
wasn't already showing you, I mean."
"Not if he was in the shape he was in when you saw him, I wouldn't."
"He's in the room," I reminded both of them, my tone a little harsher than
I meant it to be. "Now, can we talk about something other than me being
naked?"
Kevin chose that moment to bang on the door and I'd never been more
grateful for his ability to interrupt. I stood from the chair and tried to
not see the questioning looks Brian and Nick were giving me as I went to
open the door. I could see the question coming as soon as it was open.
"I'm fine."
He grinned and slapped my shoulder as he leaned into the room. "Brian's
always been a worrier. You'll get used to it." Hearing that, I felt an
internal flinch and my stomach flipped over again. "You guys ready to go?"
I looked over my shoulder and found Nick standing up from the bed and Brian
wriggling his feet into his shoes. He never bothered untying them. My
mother would have fainted. "Yeah, we're ready."
The concert went extremely well. The rehearsal and practise time the guys
had put in during our time in Dallas was definitely well-spent. Nick
stumbled once and there was one point where AJ seemed to forget a line, but
it went largely unnoticed. Stuff like that happened even when they weren't
coming off of a break. They seemed as polished as they ever did.
My experience of the concert was another matter altogether. I'd spent the
afternoon trying to distract myself from thinking about the decision that
now lay before me. I'd run from the hotel and turned to the first bar I
could find when just wandering around the city hadn't helped. That had
worked for a while, until I was actually faced with Brian again. Then I'd
tried unsuccessfully to escape both him and my own mind through sleep. He'd
left me alone to eat with the guys but my mind hadn't been so easy to avoid,
and it was still being a problem.
The busride to the concert had been easier than I'd expected, at least. I
could interact with them all without any of them really being involved.
Even Brian paid only marginal attention to me so close to a performance.
Coupled with the excuse of not feeling well, I could use them as a
distraction without having to worry about them noticing anything wrong or my
being drawn into a conversation.
Then they went on stage and all I could do for the entire show was sit
there and watch them. The only distraction to be found was occasionally
needing to move aside so that someone could get by me. I couldn't even let
my mind wander very far. Whenever Brian or one of the other guys would
glance over and smile, I needed to know it in case they mentioned it later.
Thankfully, they couldn't actually see me in the darkness and they couldn't
acknowledge me too often. People would have wondered what was going on.
Still, every time I received one of those glances -- from any of them -- my
stomach twisted just a little more. Twice, I had to get up and move from
the spot Brian had left me just to relieve some of the tension. Like
walking off a cramp that returned as soon as I got back to where I could see
them again.
"You okay?" Brian asked as soon as he was off of the stage. Grabbing my
hand, he pulled me along behind him to the dressing room. The rest of the
guys were ahead of us and he made sure to walk slow enough that their lead
increased.
"I think so," I answered simply, letting myself be led and trying not to
concentrate on his grip.
"Stomach?"
We'd pulled up to a stop outside the dressing room, and I brought the hand
that he wasn't holding up in front of him and rocked it back and forth
slightly.
"I thought you said you felt better."
"I did. I do."
"Sure?"
"Sure." I pushed the door open and let go of his hand, entering the room
ahead of him and dropping into a chair. The rest of the guys were already
changing for the ride back to the hotel.
"Sure what?" Nick asked as he pulled on the shirt he'd had on when we
arrived.
"Nothing," Brian and I answered together. He ignored the looks they all
gave us and ran his hand down the back of my head as he passed behind my
chair to his own pile of clothes. I fought the urge to move my head forward
and away from his hand.
"My room," Kevin said simply as we got off of the elevator. Everyone
automatically turned and followed him down the hall. I looked at Brian and
Nick, questioning them with my eyes.
"Meeting about the show," Nick answered with a smile. "We do it every time
we haven't done one in a while. Who screwed up, what needs working on, that
sort of thing. There'll be a longer, more involved one tomorrow with the
tour management, but we usually have a quick meeting just the five of us."
"You don't have to come if you don't want," Brian added, putting his hand
on the small of my back. "It won't take very long."
"I'll come." The last thing I wanted was to be left alone with my
thoughts, and I knew I wasn't going to be able to sleep anytime soon.
"Sure?"
"Stop." My tone caught everyone's attention and I tried to soften it.
"I'm coming," I repeated, looking from Brian to the others.
"Good," Kevin answered, smiling at me to relieve a bit of the tension that
had suddenly appeared. "You're the only one of us that could see the entire
thing, and can tell us who messed up."
I tried to smile back at him, appreciating the effort, and stepped forward
as we got moving again. "I didn't realise I was supposed to be paying
attention."
"Well, at least he'll be able to tell us if Brian screwed something up," AJ
laughed.
"Like whether or not he forgot his line like you did?" I asked, arching my
eyebrow as Kevin opened his room and we walked inside.
"Caught that, did you?"
"We all caught it," Kevin assured him, smacking him in the head as he
passed by.
It was as informal a meeting as I'd ever seen them have. Kevin ordered
snacks for everyone and they essentially just sat and ran through the show
song by song talking about what had worked well and what they wanted to
change. Most of the time they weren't even in the same part of the room,
calling their opinions back and forth as needed.
Several times Brian tried to cuddle up next to me -- his hand invariably
trying to get under my shirt to rub my stomach -- and each time I managed to
move away from him without actually having to push him away. It was obvious
that he was starting to get frustrated with me, though.
"What's going on?" he finally asked, leaning over so that only I could hear
him.
"Nothing." I kept my voice low as well. They'd all noticed things were
off with me and I didn't need them ganging up on me for answers.
He reached over and ran his finger over my temple and down the back of my
ear. I sat forward and pulled my head away from his hand. "That's not
nothing."
"It's... just drop it. My mind's just not in this right now."
"Are you still sick?"
"No."
"Is it the book?"
"No."
"Then what?" His finger returned to my ear and once more I pulled away
from him.
"I would have sworn I asked you to drop it."
"I would have sworn I asked you what was going on."
I forced myself to look him in the eye and set my jaw. "I'm not going to
talk about it right now, so drop it." He stared back at me, but he didn't
say any of the things that I knew were going through his head. Seeing that
he wasn't going to keep pushing me about it, I looked away again.
Nick had been watching us, but he was far enough away that he wouldn't have
heard anything we'd said. He arched an eyebrow at me when he saw me looking
and I shook my head slightly, telling him not to get involved. He didn't
look like he liked it any more than Brian did.
"Nate?"
I jerked my head around to where Kevin was standing. "Eh?"
"I asked if there was anything else you'd noticed that we need to work on."
I blinked and tried to think. There had only been the two things that I'd
seen and I knew that they'd already discussed AJ, but I had no idea whether
or not Nick's stumbling had been brought up. Rather than risk looking like
I'd been paying even less attention to the meeting than they thought
already, I decided not to mention it. If no one had caught it, Nick was
getting a freebie.
"No," I answered, shaking my head. "Nothing I can think of."
"Alright then, I guess we're done. Breakfast in Howie's room at 9."
That got Howie's attention. He looked up from the muted TV. "Why my
room?"
"Because I'm sick of it being in mine," Kevin said simply, sitting on the
arm of the couch beside me. "And because no one else can actually be
trusted to be up." He smiled down at me and put his hand on top of my head.
"Go to bed," he said quietly, glancing at Brian then back to look me in
the eye. "You look drained."
"I'm fine."
"Then go be fine in your room, in bed, with your eyes closed."
I returned his smile and nodded, getting up off the couch. Arguing about
it would just bring down more attention. "Night, guys."
"Night," they all said together. Howie and AJ barely lifted their eyes
from the TV, and Nick seemed more concerned with the fact that he now had
the couch to himself. As soon as Brian and I stood up, he stretched out
with a sigh. I figured they had about ten minutes before Kevin decided to
reclaim his room.
Brian and I made our way out of the room and crossed the hall to Brian's
door. He swiped the keycard and pushed the door open, then took my hand and
pulled me in behind him. As soon as the door clicked shut, he had me pulled
around to face him. "Start talking."
"Let's go to bed."
"No, let's talk."
I let go of his hand but he didn't let go of mine. "I don't want to talk.
I want to go to bed."
He looked down at my hand, which hadn't come back around his, and then
released his grip. "What is with you today? You've been distracted all day
and you'll barely let me touch you! What did I do?"
"You didn't do anything," I sighed. "I'm just having a really bad day,
alright? And I don't feel like talking about it, so I'd like to just go to
bed and not have to think about it. If that's too much to ask, I'll go stay
in my own room."
The look on his face made it clear that I'd taken it a step beyond what I
needed to with the suggestion that we sleep alone. Under normal
circumstances, he wouldn't let me away with that anymore than I would have
let him away with it, but I had the advantage this time. He was exhausted
from the show, certainly in no condition for a drawn out argument about
anything and we both knew it. He reacted as though I'd leaned forward and
blown in his face, his head moving back slightly and his eyes fluttering.
"Okay," he said finally. "Fine, we'll just go to bed." I nodded and turned
toward the bed, kicking off my shoes and starting to pull my t-shirt over my
head. "Sorry."
He said it so softly I barely heard him, and it stopped me in my tracks
with my shirt half off. When I heard him moving away, I pulled the shirt
the rest of the way over my head and turned back to him. "Brian--"
"I'm going to get ready for bed," he said quietly, still heading for the
bathroom.
"Brian."
He didn't stop or look back.
When he closed the door, I fell back onto the bed and stared at it, trying
to will him to come back so I could talk to him. I didn't know what exactly
I wanted to say, but I needed to say *something*. I couldn't tell him about
Andrew and Jackie until I had some sort of handle on the situation, but
there had to be something I could say to take the hurt look off of his face.
I couldn't tell him what was really wrong and I couldn't lie to him. I
couldn't even feel good about telling him that I loved him, given how up in
the air everything now was. It was true, but it might also complicate
things. I was reluctant to do anything at all, which was how I'd managed to
frustrate Brian in the first place.
I brought my hand down on the side of the mattress and bit my lip to keep
from swearing. In my head, I was cursing Andrew and Jackie with every foul
word and name I could come up with. It was their fault my life -- our life
-- was being turned upside down. It was their fault my stomach felt like
someone had it in a vice. It was their fault that I had barely been able to
let Brian touch me all afternoon, and it was the two of them who had put me
in the frame of mind to send Brian walking away looking like I'd punched him
in the gut.
It suddenly occurred to me that I was giving them a lot of power. Their
performance that afternoon had certainly been more than enough to scare the
hell out of me, but the fact remained that it was still up to me to give
them the power over me. They'd backed me into a corner and I'd been
cowering there the rest of the day.
I clenched my hands tight enough that several of my knuckles cracked and
looked down at my feet while I took several deep breaths and tried to calm
down. I was still sitting there when the bathroom door opened again.
Glancing up, I saw his legs come to a stop in front of me.
"You going to get ready?"
I lifted my head and looked at him, forcing my hands to relax. He'd
undressed already so he was only in his boxers, and he was still looking at
me with that hurt expression on his face. I still didn't know what I wanted
to tell him, but I couldn't look away from him.
"What?" he finally asked, raising his eyebrow.
I cursed Jackie and Andrew again and pushed myself off of the bed without
taking my eyes off of his. "Nothing," I told him softly, putting my hand to
the side of his head as I kissed his cheek. I whispered an apology in his
ear and walked into the bathroom.
For the first time in all of the nights we'd ever slept together, Brian and
I actually made use of both sides of the bed. I lay on my back, staring up
at the ceiling and going back and forth between wanting him to roll over and
hold me and praying that he wouldn't. He was laying on his side, and I
could feel him watching me.
I knew he wasn't liable to fall asleep quickly no matter how exhausted he
was, and I fought the urge to move or look over at him. He was worried
about me, and anything I did to remind him of that would get his brain
firing again and he'd never get to sleep, so I remained as still and silent
as I could.
Finally -- well over an hour after we'd gotten into bed -- I heard a soft
snore beside me and I chanced a glance over at him. He was still on his
side facing me but he was definitely asleep. The meetings, rehearsal,
concert and worrying had finally taken their toll on him, and I suppressed a
sigh of relief.
It wasn't much easier with him sleeping, but it was a little better. At
least I didn't have to worry about when he was going to try and get me to
talk to him, or try and put his arms around me. Without that worry, my
frustration level went down just enough to keep me from screaming.
It still wasn't going to be enough to get me to fall asleep, though. Short
of major head trauma, I didn't see that happening at all. I'd had the
alcohol to help me get what little sleep I'd managed that afternoon but that
was gone now, which meant that I had all the time in the world to think
about what a mess my life had suddenly become whether I wanted it or not.
I'd been so sure of myself both before and during the meeting. With every
doubt Brian and I'd been through, I had honestly thought we were finally
home-free. Naturally, I'd known that management wouldn't be too happy to
find out about Brian and I being together and I'd known that Jackie would
eventually come back into things again, but I'd never expected anything like
what had happened that afternoon.
I'd been positive that I could handle it even when they were both sitting
there across from me. I was positive that there was nothing they could do
to me and there was nothing they'd dare to do to Brian. Then Andrew's
briefcase had opened and every certainty in my mind had been blown away.
Not only were they daring to threaten Brian but each of the others as well,
and they had me under their thumbs because of it.
Yet there was still a part of me -- a very large part of me -- that was all
for simply saying 'fuck it' and telling Brian everything. I could ignore
the threat it posed and go out of my way to stick it to Jackie and Andrew.
It would disrupt Brian's family even further and he'd be left with little
choice but to come out and beat Jackie and Andrew to the punch, but they'd
both know that I wasn't willing to let them fuck with my life.
Brian's relationship with his mother would most likely be irrevocably
destroyed, the guys would be forced into frantic spin control to handle
Brian's coming out, their fans might never understand and he'd likely wind
up resenting me on some level for the whole thing, but I could get the
better of them. I could show them that you can't try and screw with Michael
Stephen James Healy's son and get away with it.
I felt a jolt go through me as that thought hit home, and looked over to
make sure I hadn't woken Brian with my sudden movement. Once I was sure I
hadn't disturbed him, I returned my gaze to the ceiling and tried to figure
out where my father's presence had suddenly come from.
As far as I could remember, I'd never had a thought like that one in my
life. When he was alive most of my thoughts regarding him had been spent
trying to come up with ways to distance myself from being his son. After
his death the majority of them were guilt-laden ones. Now, here was a new
variety. It was almost pride.
My mind immediately tried to shy away from that particular revelation but I
forced it back on track. This was something that needed exploring,
considering I wouldn't have thought pride would ever be something I'd
associate with my father. I'd certainly never thought I'd find myself
thinking and acting the way he would have. In some ways, I'd organised my
life specifically to avoid it.
Yet that was exactly what I was doing. Going back over the last half of
the day, I could see my father in practically everything I'd done. He'd
even been coming through during the first part of my meeting with Andrew and
Jackie. I didn't like confrontations and never had, but I could do it when
I needed to. Even so, the confrontational side of me was never as strong as
it had been while I was yelling at them and letting them know that there
wasn't a thing they could do to me.
When they'd succeeded in proving me wrong, I'd reacted exactly as I would
have expected my father to. Avoidance had always been one of his strong
suits. When a situation arose that he didn't have complete control of he'd
wait it out, avoid dealing with it until a clear plan of action showed
itself and then dig in his heels and push until he reached a resolution.
The resolution he wanted. No one else's opinion had ever mattered. Not my
mother's and certainly not mine. He was more inclined to listen to his
brothers but that was only because they were inclined to think the same way
he did. It didn't matter who got hurt as long as Micheal Healy got what he
wanted.
That was exactly where my mind had just been. What I wanted most in that
moment was to teach Andrew and Jackie a lesson, and I'd skipped over all of
the hurt and trouble it would cause without a second thought. Even earning
Brian's resentment hadn't given me so much as a pause. They'd tried to
screw me over and that couldn't be allowed.
I brought my arms up, digging the heels of my palms into my eyes and
rubbing. I was even starting to hear my father in my head telling me what I
needed to do, what he would have done. That was what finally decided me at
least on what course of action I *wasn't* going to take. My father's
approval was something I'd wanted my entire life, and now that I had it I
couldn't let myself do what was needed to earn it.
The cost of going head to head with Jackie and Andrew on this was something
I had to consider -- had to force myself to consider it, if that was what it
took. It was something my father would never have done and that alone was
reason enough for me.
Brian and the guys could stand up against them to a point, but once the
press and the fans started after them as well they'd have no choice but to
go on the defensive, and it was hard to live like that. Even if their fans
were completely understanding of my relationship with Brian, there'd still
be an enormous amount of pressure put on them to explain themselves.
It would also bring all of their sexualities into question. AJ was secure
enough and forward enough to deal with something like that and Kevin would
most likely be fine as well. He was used to having to be the responsible,
mature one, and he'd be more interested in making sure that Brian and I came
through it okay than worrying about himself. Howie, though, was likely to
be a different story. It had taken him long enough just to get used to the
idea of Brian being gay, and then our being together. He wasn't likely to
react well to questions about himself. There was absolutely no way Nick was
ready for it, and with the way our names had already been linked he was
bound to get the brunt of things.
Obviously, Brian had to be my main concern. I'd seen other people who had
been forced into coming out and it very rarely went smoothly. Luckily,
things had eventually turned out well for most of the people I knew who had
been through it, but I wanted much more than eventually for Brian. It was
hard enough being outed within a group of friends or a community like a
school -- something I could personally attest to -- but to be outed to the
world would be nothing short of devastating.
Outed to the world by your mother, no less. Whether she made the
announcement or he did, she was going to be the one outing him and it would
sound the death knell for their relationship. As things stood now, there
was hope that they'd eventually work it out and manage to salvage the
relationship -- especially with Brian's father and possibly his brother
pulling for it to happen. If Jackie forced Brian's hand, it would never
happen. She certainly didn't deserve to have him in her life, but Brian
deserved to have a mother.
The family rift would hardly end there, either. Harold would be furious
with Jackie and so would Kevin. I didn't know how Kevin's side of the
family was liable to react to our relationship, but they were bound to have
an opinion and where families are concerned, that's all that's needed to
start the divisions. If they supported Brian it would result in more
tension around him and if they supported Jackie, Brian -- and likely Kevin
too -- would lose more people because of me.
All of my fears about what my being with him could do to the guys
personally and to their careers would come true. I'd be causing them pain
simply by being around. While they'd undoubtedly blame Jackie the most for
it happening, there would be more than enough resentment for me, too.
They'd deny it, but it would be there. It would have to be there.
There could also be serious repercussions for my career when the shit hit
the fan. I knew that people liked my writing and, as I'd told Jackie, I'd
been selling quite well before Brian and I had gotten together. There was
also no denying that the sales figures had jumped after I'd been connected
to the guys. If their fans decided to be angry about our relationship, I
could quite likely count on losing them as readers.
The more important factor for my career was the media, though. If they put
a negative spin on the whole situation -- and some were bound to do just
that -- it could certainly hurt me. Bad press is decidedly bad for book
sales and whether people listened to their music or not, this was one story
that just about everyone would be bound to hear. If things went really
wrong, I could come out of it all as this generation's Yoko.
And finally, throwing caution to the wind and fighting Jackie and Andrew
would make me just as uncaring and selfish as my father. It was just as
powerful an arugment against doing it as all of the others were.
Telling Brian and the others about what had happened in the conference room
would bring all of our worlds crashing down. That was as close to a
certainty as it could possibly get, but the alternatives weren't any more
appealing. If I did nothing and they weren't bluffing -- and I was positive
they weren't -- everything still happened. The only difference was that it
would catch Brian and the guys completely by surprise and they'd resent me
even more for not warning them.
I found myself left with one option: bowing out as gracefully as possible
and leaving Brian.
I shut my eyes against the thought but it refused to go away. My father
was still present enough in my head to balk almost audibly at the thought of
surrender, but I knew that my hesitation to consider the idea had little to
do with him; it was pure selfishness. I didn't want to be without Brian and
to a lesser extent, the others. Leaving would mean essentially deleting
five friends from my life, and I didn't have many close friends to start
with. I knew that they'd be better off without me and that as a friend that
should be what I'd want for them, but it was a hard bit of knowledge to
accept.
I had a sudden thought about the hotel room I'd shared with Brian in New
Orleans and the conversation we'd had there about whether or not I would
have kissed him back that first time if I'd known what was going to happen.
I hadn't been sure of an answer then, but I certainly was now. I'd have
pulled away and hoped for a friendship with Brian. Just being his friend
was a huge step down from where I currently was, but it was a lot better
than what I was facing now.
Brian had assured me that it didn't matter what he would have without me,
only that he wouldn't have me, but that had been what he was expected to
say. It's always easier to be brave and self-sacrificing when it's all
speculation than it is when it really comes down to doing it. I was
learning that first-hand.
In the same hotel room the very next day, we'd had another conversation
that was relevant to my current situation. Brian and I had been speculating
about what was going to happen to Matt and everyone around him if things
didn't work out for the best. Brian had said he didn't know what he'd do
without me and I'd told him that he would muddle through it. Things would
get better and he'd move on. I would want him to, and I was confident that
he would be okay without me.
It looked like I was going to find out for sure.
I took a deep breath and tried to keep the sigh that accompanied it quiet
enough to keep from disturbing Brian. I knew I couldn't leave him in the
middle of the night again. Before, I'd been sure that I would be coming
back to him. This time I was sure I wouldn't be, and I couldn't end things
like that. It wouldn't fair to him, for one thing. For another, it
wouldn't accomplish anything. He'd come after me just like he had the first
time, and the only thing I would have accomplished was to make him go out of
his way to have his heart broken.
I didn't know if I could do it any other way, though. Was being able to
stand in front of him while I broke his heart any better? Maybe not, but it
was definitely more fair. I was going to be leaving him and I was going to
have to lie about why I was doing it. The least I could do was look him in
the eye when I did it. Only one thing was for sure: I was going to need
some help.
Folding the blankets back carefully, I sat up and slid my feet over the
side of the bed. I sat for a moment to gather my courage before standing
up. Brian rolled onto his back when I leaned over to tuck the blankets back
around him so he wouldn't get a chill. I couldn't handle him waking up
before I was ready to talk to him. The problem was that I didn't know if I
would ever really be ready to do what I needed to do.
When his eyes didn't open, I straightened again and began getting dressed.
Ordinarily if we were staying in Brian's room for the night, I did
everything I could to avoid leaving it for any reason. Having someone see
me leaving his room in the middle of the night was too big of a risk, but
this time I had no choice. I pulled the door open and scanned the hall,
then stepped out into it and pulled the door closed silently behind me.
Walking quickly to my room I dug out my keycard, letting myself in and
heading straight for the mini-fridge. I grabbed a pop and a couple of
little bottles of vodka, then kicked it shut and set about making myself a
drink. Once I'd downed half of it, I stopped and looked around the room.
I had to get myself packed before waking Brian up. For one thing, it would
help solidify the fact that I was leaving in my head. For another, I
couldn't afford to take the time to pack up after I'd told him. Not only
would it give him time to work on convincing me not to do something that I
didn't want to do in the first place, but it would also give him the
opportunity to recruit help from the rest of the guys. I wasn't sure if I
could manage facing Brian; I was positive I couldn't handle facing all of
them at once.
Draining the rest of my drink, I set the glass on the top of the TV and dug
my bags out from under the bed. I tried to calm myself down as I set about
packing up my things, keeping my mind as much on what I was going to tell
Brian as on making sure I got everything. I wouldn't be able to come back
for anything I forgot. The act of packing itself -- methodically folding
and placing each item, making sure it all fit properly -- helped keep my
mind focused and under control.
With one break to make myself another drink, I managed to pack in about
three quarters of an hour which meant that I had nothing else to occupy
myself with; only one thing remained to be done. I drained my glass as I
set my bags just inside the door -- hoping that I was drunk enough to do
this but not quite drunk enough to let him know why I was really doing it --
and walked back out into the hall. Kevin always gave the spare keycard for
my room to Brian and the spare for Brian's room to me. I pulled the card
for his room out of my pocket and let myself back in.
Brian didn't look like he'd moved a muscle while I was gone. In the cool,
pale light coming through the windows, I could barely make out his form.
The brightness of my room and the hallway had ruined the nightvision I'd
acquired while staring at the ceiling and waiting for Brian to go to sleep.
After closing the door and moving closer, I could see that he was still on
his back, one arm under the blanket resting on his stomach and the other
over the blanket laying at his side. I carefully moved further into the
room, going straight for the nightstand on his side of the bed and trying
not to stumble over anything. I could hear him breathing as I pulled the
drawer open and removed the small box that contained my father's medallion.
I had been tempted to leave it for him, but he would likely take it as a
promise that I'd be back someday so I was taking it with me.
I knelt down beside the bed, watching his profile as he slept and waiting
for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. His eyelids were fluttering
slightly, the eyelashes quivering with every movement of his eyes, and his
mouth was moving. It was something he often did while he was napping, as
though he was holding silent conversations with someone. I'd always
secretly hoped that it was me he was talking to, but now I found myself
hoping it was just about anyone else.
"Brian," I finally whispered, reaching out and shaking his shoulder gently.
He shifted but didn't wake up, so I shook him again and raised my voice.
"Brian, come on and wake up."
He made a frustrated noise and reached up to brush my hand off of his
shoulder.
"Brian."
His eyes opened slowly and he raised his head off the pillow to look over
at me. He took me in, then looked back to the other side of the bed as
though convincing himself that I wasn't there. When he looked at me again,
he blinked slowly and frowned. "What are you doing up? And why are you
dressed?"
"We have to talk, swee--Brian." He watched me for a second, then dropped
his head back onto his pillow with a sigh. "Come on," I said again, tugging
gently at the blanket covering him. "Get up."
His eyes didn't open again. "You choose now to talk?"
"Yeah, now."
He lifted himself up onto his elbows and looked closely at me. "Why now?
I tried to get you to talk to me all afternoon and you wouldn't. Now it
can't wait until morning?"
"No, it can't."
"Why not?" He was still blinking back sleep and he stifled a yawn against
his hand.
"It just can't. Please?"
"Alright, sweetie, I'm up." He sat up further and tried to lean in for a
kiss. I pulled back from him, standing and taking a few steps away from the
bed. "Are you going to tell me why you're dressed?"
"I've got to go," I told him, stepping back a few more paces and trying to
keep my eyes on his. "I've got to *leave*."
His head tilted slightly to the side. "What do you mean you have to leave?
Did something happen?"
I shook my head. "No, but I have to go."
"If it's not an emergency, sweetie, why are you suddenly having to go? Are
you going to see Andy? Is this because of what Nick told you about me not
wanting you around when Harold's here? I already told you I just meant I
didn't want you there with me, not that I didn't want you with us at all."
"I know," I said, nodding, then shook my head again. "But--"
"Andy can wait until morning, can't she?" he interrupted, holding his hand
out. "Come back to bed, sweetie."
"I'm not going to see Andy," I said sharply, trying to get through to him
and make him listen to me. "Or," I continued, "maybe I am. I don't really
know where I'm going, just that I have to leave. Now."
"It's too early for this," he smiled, still holding his hand out to me.
"Come on. Kevin'll kill us if we're late for breakfast."
"I'm not going to be here for breakfast, Brian. That's what I'm trying to
tell you."
"Because you're leaving."
"Yes," I said, nodding. I took a deep breath and tried to steel myself to
continue. "And I'm not going to be coming back."
Brian sighed, resigning himself to the fact that he wasn't going to get me
to come back to bed. "It would have to be a pretty short trip if you were,
sweetie. We're only in Dallas for another couple of--"
"No, that's not what I meant. I won't be coming back, period. Not to
Dallas, not to the next stop on the tour, not to any of the ones after
that."
"You're leaving the tour?"
I saw in his eyes that he knew what I was saying, but he was trying to keep
from admitting it to himself. He was being deliberately obtuse, hoping to
delay hearing it. "I'm leaving all of this," I told him gently. "The tour,
and us. I can't do this."
He started shaking his head and sat up further. "No."
"Yes," I insisted, stepping away from him some more and leaning against the
back of a chair to cover the fact that my legs weren't feeling as stable as
they had been a few moments before.
"You can't just leave."
I almost told him everything then, seeing the expression on his face. I
realised that there had been a part of me that had been hoping that it
wouldn't be a shock for him. I had been hoping that somewhere inside he'd
known it was only a matter of time before this happened and that he'd be
resigned to it to some extent, but it was clear that he was completely taken
by surprise. It was almost enough to get me to blurt out everything that
had happened but I managed to bite back the words, clenching my hands on the
back of the chair.
"I *have* to leave," I repeated, trying and failing to sound confident.
"It's for the best." I saw him start to speak but I put my hand up to stop
him. "I know we've been through this before, but it is. I've been thinking
a lot about this. I've been thinking about nothing else all night, and it's
best for both you and the others if I'm not in your lives. It's too
disruptive and it's too risky."
"No," Brian said again, still shaking his head. "I told you already that
it's worth the risk."
"It's not, though. You might think it is, but it's not. I can't ask you
to risk your career for me and I certainly can't ask it of the other guys.
You've worked hard for all of this and I'm not going to be the one to take
that away from you."
"Everything's been fine so far!" Brian had turned on the bed, and was
trying to rub the sleep from his eyes while arguing. "I know it's hard, but
it's worth it."
"We've been lucky so far, but we can't stay lucky forever, Brian. Hell,
the papers have already tried linking me with Nick just because he and I
were hanging out, and Hannah Neale could have completely blown us out of the
water if she'd wanted to. We've been together a few months and we've
already had a couple of close calls. How many more do you think we get?"
"Then we'll be more careful!" He got to his feet and took a few steps
toward me through the darkened room. "We'll make sure the two of us don't
go out alone and don't sit together when there's other people around, and
whatever else we have to do."
"How long do you think we could keep that up? Eventually, we'd screw up
and then it'd be over."
"Not necessarily," he argued, shaking his head and taking another step
toward me. "We don't know for sure what would happen if people found out."
"We know you're not ready for it to happen, so it doesn't matter what
anyone else's reaction is." His eyes dropped to the floor, and I had to
fight the urge to reach out to him. "Brian, if you're not ready to come
out, being with me can't be worth the risk for you. I know you want it to
be, but it can't be."
"Then I'll get ready! You'll help me get ready!"
"That's not how it works, and you know it!" I returned, my voice rising.
I'd been relatively successful so far at keeping the sadness out of my
voice, but it was coming through loud and clear now. His head came back up
and his eyes locked with mine. "You can't just decide to be ready one day,
Brian, and I'm not going to make you rush into something like that just to
make me happy. If you do that, hurting your career is liable to be the
least of your worries."
Brian finished the last few steps to get to me and grabbed my head in his
hands. I tried to step away, but he had me against the chair I had been
using for support. "Listen to me: it's worth the risk to be with you. I
don't know how many times I have to say it."
"It's not," I answered, keeping my eyes trained on his. His hold on my
head was starting to become painful. "It's not worth it for you, it's not
worth it for me and it's certainly not worth it for the other four people
who are counting on us not to screw this up for them."
"They know all about it! They know what the risk is and they're willing to
take it. They want you with me."
"They accept the risk. That's a different thing entirely than being
willing to take it," I answered quickly, tilting my head slightly so that he
would relax his hands. This wasn't an area I had wanted to dwell in, since
it would be easy to wind up with Brian blaming the guys for my leaving, and
I didn't want to that to happen. He needed to blame me for leaving. I
needed him to blame me for leaving.
"That's for us to worry about, though, not you." His grip didn't lessen in
the least. He had my attention and he wasn't about to risk letting me go.
"It is for me to worry about, Brian." I'd been trying to avoid touching
him if I could, knowing it would do nothing for my resolve, but needed him
to let me go. Reaching up, I took his hands and pulled them away from my
head. They immediately curled around mine, refusing to let go as I lowered
them. "My father never thought twice about all of the sacrifices that my
mother had to make to be with him and believe me, there were a lot of them.
I won't be like that. I won't be like him and I won't make you like her.
Being with me could put you all in a position where you'd have to give up a
lot of things that you're not ready to give up."
"I'm not ready to give you up."
"You'll get over it." It came out sounding nothing like the way I'd meant
it, and I immediately regretted saying it. The wince it caused on Brian's
face destroyed what little resolve I'd had, and my own tears started to
fall.
"That's it? It's that easy for you to leave?"
"Brian, that's not what I--"
"Is it going to be that easy for you to get over me?"
"No, it's--"
"Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?"
"I didn't mean that!" I cried, stepping back forcefully enough to move the
chair and allow me the room to step around Brian and back to the bed.
"Please, I didn't mean that. This is killing me, Brian, but I have to."
"If you can just walk away from me like this, maybe you're more like your
dad than you think."
He couldn't have hurt me more if he'd hit me. I cringed away from him, my
knees colliding with the bed and folding under me. I hit the bed at an
angle and wound up slipping off the edge, landing on the floor looking up at
him. "Don't."
He was crying when he knelt in front of me. "You can't just leave like
this." He tried to take my hand, but I pulled away from him. "I'm sorry
for saying that. You're nothing like your father."
Hearing him apologise to me while I was breaking his heart made me feel
even worse. "Maybe I am," I whispered, looking down at the carpet between
my feet rather than at him. "Maybe I should be."
"You don't mean that."
Sniffling, I ran a hand across my eyes and continued to study the floor.
"He would be handling this better."
"You know this isn't the right thing to do, sweetie. You belong here."
"It's the only thing I *can* do," I answered, still unable to look up at
him. "You're going to be better off without me. You have to believe that."
"I don't and I won't." He put his hand under my chin and tried to force me
to raise my head. "I need you."
"You don't, though. You need your career and you need your family and the
guys. You need to be able to move at your own speed with all of this. If I
stayed, you'd lose all of that."
Brian caught me off guard by grabbing my head again. This time pulled my
face up to his and kissed me, holding me to him when I tried to pull away
again and making it last as long as he possibly could. When he finally did
end the kiss, he bit his lip and looked me in the eye. "Don't go."
Once I saw his eyes start to water again, there was no way to keep the
tears from my own as well. I cleared my throat and pulled away from him,
lifting myself up to sit on the edge of the bed. "I have to."
"No, you don't!" he said forcefully, his hands clenching at his side as he
stood. "You don't! Let me go wake up the guys and they'll tell you
themselves."
"No!" I stepped forward and grabbed his wrists before he could move for
the door. "It wouldn't matter. I've got to go."
"What about you? Are you going to be happy?"
"I'll be fine knowing you're safe."
"But you won't be happy."
I couldn't meet his eyes to answer, so I dropped my head and looked down at
the floor between us. The carpet was a light colour, but it had become a
bluish-grey in the dampened light of the room. Everything seemed that way.
The colour seemed to have been bled from the world. "'To love is to place
your happiness in the happiness of another.'"
"Neither one of us will be happy, Nate," he pleaded, bringing his forehead
to rest against the top of my head. "How can it be for the best if neither
of us is happy?"
"We will be, eventually," I told him, and it felt like a lie. "You'll be
happy. You've got so many other things that make you happy. You'll
eventually meet someone else and they'll make you happy, too." I was barely
able to get the last sentence out and I was glad I was already looking down.
I didn't think I could have said it if I'd had to look at him.
"But I love *you*. That means I can't be happy if you're not."
He forced me to look at him this time, putting his hands on my face and
lifting my head with his thumbs under my chin. It was alright, though.
This time my answer was completely honest. "I couldn't be happy if I was
putting you at risk."
"No."
"Yes. Let me go, Brian. It's for the best."
"Whose best? Who benefits from you hurting everyone?"
"You do. They do."
"And what about you?"
I pulled away from him and walked the few feet to the window, looking out
at the street below but not really seeing anything. My mind briefly
registered the irony in my moving out of the darkness and into the light in
order to do what I was about to do. "I do."
"How?"
This was the last thing I could think of to get him to let me go and not
chase after me. Arguing that the relationship could hurt him hadn't worked
and arguing that it could hurt the group hadn't worked. There was really
only one argument left that he'd believe and accept. It would mean more
half-truths and manipulation, but I was almost positive that it would work.
"You're not the only one that has to protect their career, Brian."
"What are you talking about?"
"If -- when -- word got out about you and I being together, who do you
think is the easiest target? The good Christian boy in that group that
everyone's daughter listens to, or the writer whose name they only know
because they read that the Backstreet Boys liked his book?"
"Nate, that's not true."
"It is, though. Let's be realistic, Brian. My book was selling well
before you mentioned it but it's selling much better now. You know how that
would look to people, especially people who were already looking for a
reason to dislike me."
"Nate--" I saw his reflection in the window as he started toward me with
his head tilted sympathetically to the side and hurt in his eyes. I could
see I was getting through to him more than I had with anything else I'd
said, and I pressed on.
"I worked through a lot to get where I am, Brian. I've actually managed to
gain some credibility doing the one thing that I love to do and I can't give
that up. I won't give it up. It's all I've got."
"You have me and the guys, and you have Andy and Erron."
"That's a completely different thing, though. I told you I don't want to
be like my father and force you to give up the things that you need, but I
can't let myself be like my mother now, either. She had a lot that she gave
up to be with him, but I've only got this one thing. Writing has gotten me
through so much, and it provided the goal I needed to get myself through.
Now that I'm here, I can't give it up."
"You don't have to give it up, sweetie. You're a great writer. You made
it all on your own."
"No one would remember that after they found out about us."
"We'd know. Who cares about anyone else?"
I turned from the window to face him, noting how the added light from
outside lit his face and made the twin tear streaks shine. I felt a sudden
desire to push him away to move him back into the dim light of the room. "I
do. Maybe I shouldn't, but I do. I know that what I do might not seem like
it's as big of a deal as what you do..." I deliberately gave him the
opportunity, knowing he would take it.
"It is," he insisted, coming to a stop in front of me. His hand came up
and rested on my shoulder for a moment before sliding down my arm. "It's a
huge deal, and you're wonderful at it. Do you know how much I wish I could
do what you do?"
I gave him a very slight smile in acknowledgement of the compliment, but I
shook my head. "More people would show up just to have a chance to get a
glimpse of the back of your head than will ever show up to meet me. You can
touch more people with a four minute song than I ever could with a four
hundred page book. Our careers aren't equal and they never will be, but
mine is all I've ever wanted.
"When I was a kid writing stupid little stories in math class, this is
where I someday wanted it to take me. When I started writing again after
everything that happened in high school, this is the future I wanted for
myself. I wanted to be able to show my father that it wasn't foolishness
and show my mother that what I did deserved more than just 'it's nice,
Nathan.'"
"It does deserve more than that, sweetie, and it's not foolishness. I
know that." His hand had been resting on my elbow and now slid to my
forearm and squeezed reassuringly, his lip crinkling at little at the
corner. Not a smile, but an subconscious display of sympathy.
"Brian, when I signed the contract for 'Blue Sky' to be published, I had
everything I'd ever seen for myself."
"I know," he admitted, nodding.
"Then please don't ask me to put it at risk." I had started to cry again,
but I didn't move to clear the tears away. I didn't think I had the
strength to pull my arm out of his hand. Looking him in the eye and holding
on to my certainty that I was doing what was best, I gave him one last push.
"Please, don't ask me to do that. Give me this. Let me go."
His brow creased as he studied me for a moment, one hand coming up to wipe
at his eyes. "No," he said finally, grabbing me and pulling me into a hug.
He was squeezing almost hard enough to hurt. "Please don't."
"I'm sorry," I whispered into his ear, then took his arms in my hands and
pulled them from around me. He was making no attempt to stop the tears now,
and they were coursing down his cheeks. I fought the urge to reach up and
wipe them away, stepping back instead. "I'm sorry. I have to."
"Nathaniel--"
"Goodbye," I said meekly, barely able to make my voice audible. Steeling
myself, I took a last look into his eyes before turning my back on him and
walking to the door.
"What if I come after you?"
I paused with my hand on the doorknob. "Don't. It won't change things."
"Nate--"
Closing my eyes for a second to get ready for the final push, I took a deep
breath and turned to face him one last time. "Don't. Don't call, don't
write, don't email and don't show up at my door. It won't do either of us
any good." Trying not to see the expression I had put on his face, I turned
and pulled the door open. The light of the hallway seemed wrong, improper.
The bedroom had been lit with the half-dark that always seemed to be present
in the city, where it never truly got dark. That dimness was proper,
befitting what I'd just done. The brightness of the hallway was almost an
affront.
"You can't just forget about us."
"I'm going to try."
He made a strangled noise behind me but I didn't look around. Instead, I
stepped out into the light and started for my room.
I fumbled with the keycard but finally got it the right way around and got
my door open. Holding it with my foot, I reached inside and grabbed my
bags, pulling them into the hall. Picking them up properly, I carried them
to the elevator and pressed the button.
Just as I heard the chime letting me know that the elevator was on its way,
I heard the door open behind me and couldn't keep from looking. He was
standing in his doorway in only his boxers, still biting his lip and the
still with tears flowing freely down his face. When I looked at him he
shook his head slightly, silently begging me to reconsider.
Squaring my shoulders, I turned back just as the doors opened and I stepped
inside. Putting my computer bag down on the floor of the elevator, I
reached out and pressed the button for the lobby. I caught movement out of
the corner of my eye as the doors slid closed again and realised I could see
his reflection in the polished metal bar on the wall of the elevator. I
could see Brian coming toward me, trying to catch the elevator before the
doors could close. He wasn't going to make it.
For the the third time that night I whispered an apology. This time, I was
the only one who heard it.
End.
So, there you go, peoples. Several of you have mentioned that you expect me
to disappear now that B&M is finished, but that's not exactly true. I may
not be posting anything on the archive right now, but I'm around. I still
have one story going (I'll Never Stop) on my website --
www.geocities.com/dls_stories -- and there may be more coming. I've got
some ideas, and a few things going on in my head. :) I honestly don't know
if they'll make it onto the archive eventually or not, but they'll
definitely be on my site for you to see.
And remember, my email is still active, and I'll certainly be checking it.
I suspect more than a few of you have a few things you want to say about
this installment, and I'm eager to hear it all. It may take me a while to
get back to everyone, but I'll do my best. So, please drop me a line and
let me know what you think. dls_stories@hotmail.com
Thanks for reading, all :)